


Masterpiece

by fuzipenguin



Series: Explosive Relations [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bad Haiku, Cum Marking, Face-Sitting, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome, Twincest, genital modifications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4836755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheeljack and the twins paint a picture. At least that's what the kids are calling it these days ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> Direct sequel to Blank Canvas

                “So how do you want me?” Wheeljack asked as soon as he walked through the door to the twins’ room.

                He slowed and then paused a few steps in, watching as Sunstreaker turned to the right and walked through another doorway set in the side wall. Wheeljack stared after him in confusion before he realized that the second room was the neighboring quarters. Presumably, the twins had been assigned a room apiece and had created access between the two. Or at least Wheeljack assumed so as the doorway itself was a little ragged around the edges and not quite square.

                A few more steps forward allowed Wheeljack to see into the second room, spying a large berth which Sunstreaker was just now settling upon. The quarters they were currently standing in boasted a large entertainment center and couch at the far end, two desks pushed together at the other, and the entire wall in between housing an impressive assortment of weapons ranging from small vibroblades to something resembling a human’s bazooka which was _definitely_ not standard issue.

                As fascinating as the room set up was, it didn’t escape Wheeljack’s notice that Sunstreaker either hadn’t heard him or was ignoring him. So Wheeljack turned to face Sideswipe, automatically seeking out the more verbose twin for instructions.

                Sideswipe had chatted the entire way from Wheeljack’s lab to the twins’ quarters. It wasn’t a small distance considering the two rooms were nearly at opposite ends of the ship. Wheeljack had responded as best as he could, but the farther away from his lab they went, the more nervous he became. And the more nervous he got, the more he fidgeted and went silent except for random outbursts of babble, mostly science related and having very little to do with whatever Sideswipe had been talking about.

                Sideswipe finished closing the door and then considered Wheeljack for a long moment. Without answering, he moved forward past the engineer. A warm hand trailed light fingers along Wheeljack’s arm before vanishing in an optic blink.

                Wheeljack automatically followed the frontliner into the second room, halting and fidgeting in the doorway as Sideswipe approached the berth.

                “How do you want to be?” Sideswipe asked, perching gracefully on the edge of the bed next to his brother. Sunstreaker was lounging sideways across the recharging surface, back propped against several pillows and the wall. His legs were stretched out straight, pedes dangling over the side of the extra wide berth.

                No. It was actually two berths slid together, Wheeljack noted. “Are those welded together? Because if not, I carry a portable welder with me at all times,” he offered, hand poised over a subspace pocket.

                Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged undecipherable looks. “We borrowed one of Ratchet’s. It’s all good.”

                “Oh, ok,” Wheeljack said with a small sigh of relief. Because otherwise he kept imaging the berths accidentally sliding apart during a more… enthusiastic interface. Then he blinked at the twins; Ratchet would never… “Wait? Ratchet’s? Do you mean that welder that went missing last year he searched high and low for?” he asked, grinning in remembrance of his best friend’s befuddled rage.

                Sideswipe shrugged and pushed himself backwards, away from the edge of the bed. He turned on one hip and cuddled against Sunstreaker’s side, placing a hand on the closest golden thigh. “He said he would give it to us.”

                “Actually… he said he would weld our afts together,” Sunstreaker supplied, hand sliding up Sideswipe’s lower back to cup his hip. Golden fingers splayed over the joint, thumb rubbing small circles into the plating with confident familiarity.

                “Same difference,” Sideswipe replied, waving an airy hand. He then replaced it on Sunstreaker’s leg, much higher up. He gazed coyly up at Wheeljack. “You aren’t gonna tell on us, are you?”

                Wheeljack watched black digits trace Sunstreaker’s pelvic transformation seam and shook his head, mouth dry. “Not a word.”

                “We appreciate that,” Sideswipe said. His hand slid over and cupped Sunstreaker’s interface panel, the golden warrior’s thighs spreading to accommodate the touch. Moments later, Wheeljack heard the muffled scrape of an array cover sliding aside, hidden behind Sideswipe’s servo. “Now. Is there anything that is a no-go for you? We’re pretty open to everything except spark merging.”

                “Uh, well… I think spark merging would be a bit… intimate… for a first time…” Wheeljack said in agreement. Although he immediately wondered what that would be like with a pair of twins. Would their sparks pulse in time with one another or independently?

                “Agreed. Ok then,” Sideswipe said, sitting back up. He rolled to his knees, fitting himself between Sunstreaker’s thighs. The red twin looked over his shoulder, lips curving in a small, secretive smile. “I’m gonna suck my brother off. Feel free to join in at any time. Don’t be shy.”

                With that, Sideswipe bent at the waist, his aft rising enticingly into the air. Sideswipe’s head lowered, and Wheeljack heard a moist, slurping sound.

                Optics wide, and array coming to life with a vengeance, Wheeljack’s stare shot up to meet Sunstreaker’s optics, looking for confirmation.

                The golden twin smirked, one of his hands landing on the back of Sideswipe’s helm. The other servo gestured to the berth beside Sunstreaker, and Wheeljack automatically took a step forward. Then again more eagerly as the bob of Sideswipe’s head came into profiled view. Fascinated, Wheeljack watched Sideswipe suck on the tip of his brother’s erect spike, one hand wrapped around the black base.

                Sideswipe’s optic shutters were nearly completely shut, his focus set on the motions of his lips and glossa. As if feeling Wheeljack’s stare however, Sideswipe tilted his helm, lipping at the side of Sunstreaker’s spike. Their optics met and one of Sideswipe’s dimmed in a slow wink as he swiveled his hips in a little shimmy.

                Wheeljack was torn. Sunstreaker had gestured him onto the berth, but Sideswipe’s aft was _right there,_ and practically begging to be touched. Plus… Sunstreaker had always intimidated Wheeljack a little, to be honest. He wasn’t sure he was up to approaching the proud warrior just yet.

                So he took a few steps closer and reached out a trembling hand to lay it on Sideswipe’s hip. The plating was pleasantly warm beneath Wheeljack’s fingers, and silky smooth from an obviously recently applied wax. Wheeljack wondered if they had detailed themselves prior to visiting him and both his interface array and spark twinged at the thoughtful gesture.

                Then he realized he hadn’t been to the washracks in several days, too caught up in the lab and his projects to do more than grab a cube of energon here and there. He looked down at himself and caught optic of several smears of grease, pock mocks from the acids he had been working with earlier, and countless streaks of generalized grime.

                “What’s wrong?” Sunstreaker’s voice asked, causing Wheeljack’s head to snap up.

                “Yeah. I know my aft is awesome but touching it doesn’t usually cause mecha to go comatose,” Sideswipe added, looking over his shoulder. His lips were wet and shiny and almost enough to distract Wheeljack, but then he came back to himself with a shake of the head.

                Wheeljack gestured to himself. “I’m filthy. I should have stopped off for at least a quick rinse. The two of you are so…”

                He lifted his hand away as if it had been burned. Wheeljack didn’t make it far, however, before Sideswipe’s servo whipped out and caught Wheeljack’s wrist. Refusing to let him go, Sideswipe turned and faced Wheeljack on his knees, looking up at him with a smile.

                “You’re fine. Yeah, we washed and waxed before coming to see you, but Sunny refuses to look anything but his best for new berth partners. And old berth partners. And well, everyone, really. But we don’t really mind a little dirt. Cuz I plan on getting absolutely filthy by the time our next shift rolls around,” Sideswipe remarked with a leer, placing Wheeljack’s hand on a red chestplate.

                Wheeljack’s fingertips twitched against the smooth armor. “Are you sure?” he questioned, taking a few steps forward between Sunstreaker’s outstretched pedes. The edge of the berth bumped up against Wheeljack’s knees and he startled, thinking there had been more space between himself and the twins. They were like a magnet, and he a sliver of iron; he was being drawn in without even knowing it.

                But he kinda liked it.

                Still holding onto Wheeljack’s wrist, Sideswipe lifted his arm and replaced Wheeljack’s hand against Sideswipe’s cheek. Wheeljack automatically curled his fingers beneath Sideswipe’s jawline, a part of him still astonished that such a beautiful creature would allow itself to be touched by someone like Wheeljack.

                “Very sure,” Sideswipe replied. With a quick turn of his head, Sideswipe captured Wheeljack’s thumb between plump lipplates, drawing the digit into a warm oral cavity and caressing it with a talented, slick glossa.

                Wheeljack’s knees instantly went weak, and a little noise escaped him as he watched Sideswipe suckle on the digit. A playful expression stared up at Wheeljack, the grip on his wrist firm and unyielding.

                “So what are you going to do about it?” Sunstreaker asked, left pede nudging the side of Wheeljack’s right knee.

                In a fit of boldness, Wheeljack bent at the waist, retracting his blast mask and removing his thumb from between Sideswipe’s lips in order for Wheeljack to meet them with his own. He pressed forward, not giving himself any time to think.

                The kiss tasted like sweet and airy highgrade; Wheeljack wondered if the twins had been drinking some earlier or if Sideswipe was always this delicious. Cutting through the high grade was the faintest hint of charge. He licked at Sideswipe’s lower lip, chasing after that electrical taste of pre-transfluid, and Sideswipe groaned. He surged upwards, nipping at Wheeljack’s glossa with a heady little whimper.

                Suddenly, Sideswipe pulled away, and Wheeljack onlined his optics in confusion and disappointment. He had thought that had been going well; what had he done wrong?

                Apparently nothing, as the glare Sideswipe was sporting was directed not at Wheeljack but at Sideswipe’s twin. Who had what looked to be a strong grip on one of Sideswipe’s audial horns.

                “What the frag, Sunny?!” he protested, batting at his brother’s hand.

                “Stop hogging him. I want a taste,” Sunstreaker retorted, having shifted to his own knees while Sideswipe and Wheeljack had been kissing.

                Sunstreaker’s array was still bared, his thick spike immediately catching Wheeljack’s attention as it rose proudly from between the golden warrior’s thighs. The fully pressurized length was largely black, but inlaid with delicate whorls of gold spiraling upwards to the tip. Fascinated, Wheeljack reached out and stroked one of the curls with a fingertip, causing Sunstreaker to startle and release his brother.

                “These are lovely,” Wheeljack commented, thinking of his own white and gray spike. “Do they serve any function?”

                “To entice you to keep doing that,” Sunstreaker shot back, shifting his hips to try and nudge his spike between Wheeljack’s fingers.

                “Oh, right, sure!” Wheeljack exclaimed, giving a nervous chuckle. He curled his hand around the spike and stroked it from base to head, Sideswipe’s leftover oral lubricants making the motion smooth and easy. Sunstreaker’s optics dimmed, and his engine gave a pleased purr in response.

                A light touch on Wheeljack’s wrist made him pause, and he questioningly looked over at Sideswipe. “Don’t be intimidated by him. Or me,” Sideswipe added. “You want something, even if it’s only to explore, just say so.”                

                “Yeah,” Sunstreaker agreed, shifting backwards so that his spike slipped out from between Wheeljack’s fingers. “What he said. Sorry, Sides just got me a little revved up. You want to keep touching, go ahead. We got plenty of time.”

                Wheeljack boggled at the both of them. This was honestly not what he had expected at all. He had anticipated being swept up in a rough tumble, a fast and hard frag. But this was careful and slow and considerate, and they had barely touched him yet! While Wheeljack didn’t consider himself submissive in the berth, he was certainly very agreeable and to have choices left up to him sent his processor into a whirl.

                “I… I’m…” Wheeljack floundered, lost for words.

                “How about this?” Sideswipe offered, taking pity on him. “You can go back to watching for a while? Join in when you want to. Or don’t. We make a pretty picture,” he added with a wink and an absolute lack of modesty.

                An immense wave of relief washed over him, and Wheeljack nodded gratefully. “Yes, please. I think I’d like to just look at you two for a bit.”

                A little more comfortable now, he perched himself on the edge of the berth, slowly getting used to the idea that they didn’t have immediate expectations of him.

                “S’cool. That’s the best part of ‘facing someone for the first time. Exploring the ins and outs of their frame. And there’s two of us, so we can get a little overwhelming,” Sideswipe admitted, allowing himself to be tugged backwards by his brother. Sunstreaker’s hands were roaming over his twin’s frame, tracing the undersides of his headlights and sweeping down his sides, causing Sideswipe to arch into the touches.

                Sunstreaker reclined flat against the berth, spike still begging for attention. Those whorls kept calling out to Wheeljack, his optics drawn back to them again and again. His hand itched to reach out, and Sideswipe must have noticed.

                “They’re Old Cybertronian glyphs,” Sideswipe explained, half sprawling atop Sunstreaker’s chest. His knee slid up, nudging the underside of Sunstreaker’s spike. The golden frontliner growled a little, reaching down to tug Sideswipe’s knee higher, pressing his spike against the limb. “Modified a little of course, for the medium. Sunny’s design.”

                “What do they mean?” Wheeljack asked, giving in to temptation and tracing the line of the whorl closest to him. Leaning forward and tilting his head to the side gave him a better view and his optics traced the detailing, beginning to see that the design did, in fact, resemble words. His processor struggled to translate it, but Old Cybertronian wasn’t even spoken anymore and the glyphs were rarely seen but in old texts.

                A moan answered him, and he looked up to see Sideswipe’s head bent, optics half shuttered as Sunstreaker lipped at the end of one of Sideswipe’s audials. Wheeljack’s spike lurched in its housing at the blissful expression on Sideswipe’s faceplates.

                Sunstreaker released Sideswipe, licking his own lips and smirking at Sideswipe’s disappointed pout. “It’s a poem. Roughly translates into ‘mouth open skyward / on your glossa / drops of my love’.

                Wheelack stared at Sunstreaker, barely comprehending. “You have an erotic poem essentially tattooed onto your spike?!”

                Sideswipe chuckled. “You should see mine.”

                Sunstreaker smacked Sideswipe’s shoulder. “Later. He’s looking at mine first.”

                “He could look at mine if he wanted,” Sideswipe protested, wriggling atop his brother.

                Before they could really get into it, Wheeljack patted Sideswipe on the hip. “I would love to look at your spike in just a bit. I’m sure it’s as gorgeous as this one.”

                They both settled, mollified by the comment. “Damn right. And it’s not really a tattoo, exactly.”

                “I see that,” Wheeljack replied absently, nasal ridge practically touching the spike surface as he lightly stroked fingers over the filigree. Unlike a tattoo, Wheeljack could actually feel the slightly raised edges of the decorations and their domed centers. They were smooth and slightly cooler to the touch than the rest of the spike. The material was different as well; the whorls were firm, with very little give, while the rest of the spike flexed warmly beneath Wheeljack’s digits.

                Wheeljack continued his exploration, absolutely fascinated. He had a dozen questions – what was the material which made up the decorations? Did they conduct charge differently than the regular dermal covering of the spike? How did they feel when stimulated? What did a recipient valve experience?  

                His own clenched down weakly at the idea. Would Sunstreaker or Sideswipe be agreeable to spiking him so he could experience it fully?

                Before he could ask, a low murmur caught his attention and he looked up to see the twins kissing, Sideswipe propped up over his brother while Sunstreaker’s hands cradled the red twin’s face. Sideswipe broke off from the kiss to nibble a path down Sunstreaker’s neck, biting hard at the large energon line on the side.

                Sunstreaker arched upwards with a muttered oath, the spike in Wheeljack’s hand jerking within his grip. Wheeljack’s mouth dropped open as he watched a single drop of pre-transfluid well up at the tip of the spike and then overflow down the side.

                Oral cavity watering, Wheeljack leaned forward and lapped at the drop. Then it seemed like a natural progression to trace the curls of the spike decorations with his glossa, lips creating suction around them, and denta scraping over their surface.

                A hand landed on his head, and Wheeljack rolled his optics up to see Sideswipe gazing down at him. A thumb stroked the side of Wheeljack’s central crest, and his optic shutters fluttered at the pleasurable sensation.

                “You look good like that,” Sideswipe murmured, gaze admiring.

                Wheeljack felt a warmth suffuse his frame and deliberately holding Sideswipe’s stare, he lipped up the side of Sunstreaker’s spike until the head was within reach. Then he engulfed it, glossa swirling around the tip for more of that tangy taste.

                Sunstreaker moaned, legs shifting restlessly on the berth. One of his hands joined Sideswipe’s and they caressed the top of his helm, rubbing and stroking at the three sensitized crests there.

                “The glyphs are made of tialutanium. The derma beneath had to be scraped off and then the other stuff was inlaid into the channels. Some kind of coating was painted over it to seal it in place; it fell off a few hours later. It wasn’t as much of as an unpleasant experience as it sounds. Besides, it’s worth it. It conducts charge better than the normal dermal overlay, so it feels awesome to both the mech fragging and the one getting fragged,” Sideswipe explained. “ _And_ it’s pretty.”

                With every new bit of information, Wheeljack’s spike got firmer, his valve wetter. His respirations increased, and he sucked harder at the heated length in his mouth.

                Sideswipe noticed immediately, optics alighting with a mischievous glint. “Does science rev you up a little, Jack?”

                Instead of answering, Wheeljack slid his mouth up and down Sunstreaker’s spike, glossa finding every one of the whorls and laving them thoroughly. Back protesting at the awkward position, Wheeljack flopped to his belly, not once losing contact with this new experiment.

                “Primus. He’s killing me, Sides,” Wheeljack heard Sunstreaker mutter. He paused, looking questioningly up at Sideswipe, as he couldn’t see Sunstreaker’s face from this angle.

                Sideswipe soothingly rubbed Wheeljack’s helm. “Oh, he likes it, don’t worry. Do what you want.”

                Permission granted, Wheeljack proceeded to explore every inch of the golden warrior’s spike, using his hands and mouth and glossa. More and more liquid began dribbling out of the tip, only to be immediately lapped up. He quite enjoyed the taste of transfluid, almost more so than valve lubricant. Idly, he wondered if Sideswipe would taste the same as his brother.

                When he reflexively looked over and down, his optics widened to see that Sideswipe’s interface equipment was also bared. His hand was wrapped around his own length, lazily stroking it. Wheeljack’s head immediately shot up in curiosity, and he pushed himself upwards onto his palms, trying to get a glimpse.

                “Fraggin’ Pit!” Sunstreaker exclaimed, causing Wheeljack to blink in confusion at him. Sunstreaker accusingly stared down the length of his body, frame heaving with harsh ventilations. A very swollen and flushed spike pulsed in time with Sunstreaker’s rapid sparkbeat, sticking straight up from between the frontliner’s thighs.

                Oops. He hadn’t meant to be a tease… he’d just gotten… distracted.

                Before he could lean back down and finish the job he had started, Sideswipe gently grasped Wheeljack’s shoulder and encouraged him to move in towards the side. Towards Sideswipe’s pelvis, perhaps not so incidentally.

                “Go ahead. I’ll take care of the angry daffodil.”

                “You just want him to to…!” Sunstreaker’s complaint ended in a groan as Sideswipe curled downwards and swallowed Sunstreaker’s spike to the hilt in one easy motion.

                “Oh, frag, yes, Sides…!” Sunstreaker hissed, hand landing on his brother’s shoulder and squeezing hard enough to dent the plating. Wheeljack watched Sideswipe’s throat move in a rapid swallowing motion and several seconds later, Sunstreaker stiffened with a hoarse shout. Sideswipe pulled off somewhat, lips relentlessly working the head of Sunstreaker’s spike.

                And how was Wheeljack supposed to look away from that beautiful sight, even if it was to examine Sideswipe’s lovely spike?

                As Sunstreaker’s frame slowly relaxed, Sideswipe lifted off completely, giving the spike tip several good licks until his twin twitched away in oversensitivity.

                Sideswipe met Wheeljack’s optics, glossa peeking out to swipe over his lower lipplate. A single smear of white decorated the corner of his mouth. “Hey, I thought you wanted to explore.”

                In answer, Wheeljack wriggled forward, licking out at that smudge. Sideswipe caught the tip of Wheeljack’s glossa between his denta and worried at it before soothing the bite with a lightning fast swipe his own tongue.

                Ventilating a little harshly, Sideswipe pulled away and gestured at his pelvis. “I’m all yours.”

                “Is that a hint?” Wheeljack asked with a grin. Sideswipe’s optics were bright and eager and Wheeljack had no doubt that the other mech was getting quite revved up by this point.

                “Well, that’s just say that if you don’t make use of me, I’m sure Sunny could,” Sideswipe answered, pressing his spike against his brother’s hip. A quick glance upward revealed Sunstreaker to be watching them through half-slitted optics, energy field still rippling with lust. He had that black and gold spike in hand, fondling the base and its housing. While depressurized slightly, it was still obviously eager for another overload. So the rumors about stamina seemed correct then.

                “No, no,” Wheeljack rushed to say. “I’m sure I can occupy you.”

                Wheeljack leaned forward over Sunstreaker’s legs, Sideswipe twisting at the waist to present his spike. It was just as thick and long as his brother’s, with that same black base color. But his decorative glyphs were crimson and swirled differently than Sunstreaker’s.

                “What does it say? Another poem?”

                “Yup,” Sideswipe said proudly. “My rod in your folds / I drown in your warm wetness / your hand on my cheek.”

                Wheeljack shook his head, grinning fondly. “I have to admit, I have never run across anything like that before. And I knew Ratchet all the way through the Academy.”

                “Oooh! I always knew the rumors were true! So you got lots of stories?” Sideswipe questioned excitedly, practically wiggling at the prospect of obtaining information regarding their favorite victim’s sordid past.

                “Many, but nothing that will pass these lips. Not without Ratch’s permission anyway,” Wheeljack replied. Ratchet would kill him and then revive him in order to kill him again if Wheeljack ever let out the details of some of Ratchet’s more… _adventurous_ … encounters.

                Sideswipe pouted. “Fine then. Well, aren’t you gonna touch?”

                “I… I was actually hoping to look at your valve?” Wheeljack ventured hesitantly. If both spikes were the same then there was no point in touching or sucking on Sideswipe’s. Well. Other than the sheer enjoyment of it. But Wheeljack still felt like any moment they would decide they were done with him and politely but pointedly ask him to leave. So he wanted to explore as much as possible.

                Sideswipe’s optics brightened, and his lips seductively curved upwards at the corners.

                “That could be arranged,” Sideswipe purred, his valve cover immediately spiraling open with a soft whirl. “Sunny’s too?”

                “If he didn’t mind,” Wheeljack said shyly, optics drawn back to that slowly moving golden hand. Now that Wheeljack had explored Sunstreaker’s spike with his optics, hands, and glossa, he definitely wouldn’t mind experiencing it in his port as well. But how best to ask that?

                With a prod from his brother, Sunstreaker’s valve cover also retracted and Wheeljack spent a minute looking back and forth between the twins. Their valves were very similar in design, with a recessed anterior node (although Sideswipe’s was excitedly peeping out from between its protective folds) at the top of the opening, and decorative biolights inserted into each rim. Sideswipe’s glowed crimson, and Sunstreaker’s gold, against a dark gray base color.

                “No poems here?” Wheeljack asked, reaching out and gently stroking the soft, pliable folds to the left of Sideswipe’s port. The red twin shivered, inching closer and angling his pelvis for easier access.

                “Maybe one day. So that’s about it for the big reveals, ‘Jack. What do you wanna do next?” Sideswipe asked, licking his lips. “Wanna get a little more up close and personal? You know, you’re awfully overdressed for the occasion.”

                Wheeljack’s forehelm furrowed. Overdressed? They were Cybertronian, they didn’t wear clo… oh. He sometimes forgot that the twins especially liked to use a lot of Earth vernacular.

                “That… sounds good actually,” Wheeljack admitted. “Can you… like you were saying in the lab?” he ventured bashfully.

                He nearly smacked himself immediately after. He didn’t know _what_ was wrong with him; sure, it had been awhile since his last interface, but he didn’t remember ever being this shy!

                “You want me to ride your face?” Sideswipe asked in delight, not seeming to care. “Definitely not gonna turn that down!”

                Sunstreaker sat up and stretched, his arms angling above his head. When he dropped them, he pinned Wheeljack with a stare that sent a shiver up his backstruts. “You’ll let me spike you?”

                “Yeah, absolutely. I can’t wait to experience those glyphs,” Wheeljack replied eagerly.

                “Good. Then switch,” Sunstreaker instructed, indicating where he had been lying. Sideswipe scrambled to get out the way as Sunstreaker pushed himself to his knees. As Wheeljack moved to lie in Sunstreaker’s spot, the golden twin reached out and grasped Wheeljack about the chin, freezing him in place. Wheeljack stared at him questioningly, wondering what was wrong.

                “They’re not that bad at all,” Sunstreaker commented, thumb stroking along Wheeljack’s cheek. Realizing that Sunstreaker was tracing his scars, Wheeljack tried to duck his head, but Sunstreaker’s grip held firm. “Acid?”

                Wheeljack’s optics shot up to meet the frontliner’s. “Yeah, actually. How did you know?”

                Sunstreaker shrugged nonchalantly, and Sideswipe leaned in against his brother’s shoulder, peering into Wheeljack’s face as well. The scrutiny was making him uncomfortable, but at least he didn’t see one ounce of disgust or pity on their faces. Just curiosity.

                “We’ve seen things,” the red twin commented off-handily, making Wheeljack wonder just what they had seen to so readily identify acid scarring. “You know, I didn’t even notice, and I’ve kissed you twice now.”

                “Yeah. About that…” Sunstreaker murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips against Wheeljack’s. The kiss was soft, just a gentle brush of lips, but it ignited a fire in Wheeljack’s lines. This was _Sunstreaker_ , the proud and formidable frontline warrior who caused even the majority of the Autobots to tread carefully in his presence. And here he was, kissing Wheeljack like he was precious.

                It made Wheeljack feel a bit reckless; he licked at the seam of Sunstreaker’s closed mouth and then nipped at his bottom lip, hard enough to draw Energon to the surface.  

                Sunstreaker growled in response, the vibrations traveling through Wheeljack’s lipplates and making him moan wantonly. In the next instant, he was being pushed backwards, Sunstreaker’s weight pressing him down onto the berth surface. His hands were immediately pulled above his head, wrists gripped in an unyielding grip.

                The frontliner quickly took control of the kiss, turning it from gentle to demanding in seconds, penetrating Wheeljack’s mouth with a forceful glossa and biting at his lips. Sunstreaker’s engine rumbled aggressively, and Wheeljack felt his valve begin leaking more earnestly at the deep bass sound. Its cover snapped aside, his port clenching down on nothing as the cooler room air wafted against it. He was ready and willing for Sunstreaker to show him just how good those spikes of theirs felt right _now_.

                Sunstreaker abruptly drew back, Wheeljack’s head following blindly after those lips, until Sunstreaker snapped out an annoyed “what?!” Then Wheeljack opened his optic shutters to stare at Sunstreaker’s irritated profile as he looked over his shoulder, presumably at this brother.

                “He’s fine!” Sunstreaker protested, even as Sideswipe’s head popped into view.

                “He may not appreciate the rough handling,” Sideswipe chided, looking down at Wheeljack in concern.

                Before Sunstreaker could retort, Wheeljack hurriedly interjected. “I don’t mind at all! I thought you said one of the reasons you approached me was I was sturdy. I am, you know. Don’t toss me across the room, but otherwise, I should be good.”

                Sideswipe squinted his optics down at Wheeljack, as if reassuring himself of his sincerity. Finally, he nodded. “Just checking. We can get a little… rambunctious at times. And just because you’re big, doesn’t mean you like things hard. But we aim to please.”

                “You’ve both been great,” Wheeljack replied in complete honesty. “And if you’re aiming to please…” he gave a meaningful look up at Sunstreaker, feeling bolder than when he had first walked into the room. That kiss had certainly helped moved things along. “…I’d really like to try out your spike.”

                Now it was time for Sunstreaker’s optics to gleam. “At your service,” he rumbled, shifting his hips to rub his spike against Wheeljack’s upper thigh. He rutted there for a moment, smearing pre-transfluid everywhere, before pushing himself to his knees and releasing Wheeljack’s hands. As Sunstreaker moved away, Wheeljack spread his legs wider so the golden twin could better fit between them. Sideswipe crawled up the berth at Wheeljack’s side, glossa wetting his lower lip.

                “You’re gonna love it,” Sideswipe promised, energy field lashing against his and rife with lust.  “Feels so good.”

                Wheeljack gave Sideswipe a once over as the other mech drew himself upright and slid a hand down his abdomen, bypassing his spike and stroking over his shiny valve. Wheeljack’s oral cavity flooded with lubricant at the sight. “I bet your mouth is gonna feel good too.”

                “What the frag?” Sunstreaker’s surprised voice rang out between Wheeljack’s legs. Both he and Sideswipe stared down at the golden twin, Wheeljack craning his neck to see what was wrong. Sunstreaker was regarding Wheeljack’s pelvis with a puzzled expression on his face.

                “What’s this?” Sunstreaker questioned, pointing at Wheeljack’s valve.

                “What’s what?” Sideswipe leaned over, precariously balanced on one knee. “That’s his valve, dumbaft. Did all your energon rush south or what?”

                “No, this!” Sunstreaker exclaimed. He thankfully ignored his brother’s insult, thumb and forefinger instead encircling Wheeljack’s anterior node and gently tugging at it and silver barbell resting atop it.

                Wheeljack shivered, pelvis automatically tilting upwards into the touch. “Have you never seen a piercing before?”

                The twins looked at one another and then down at Wheeljack in eerie unison, identical expressions of surprise on their faceplates. “Piercing? You can get your node pierced?!” Sideswipe exclaimed and bent over to stare, enthralled. Wheeljack smothered a laugh at the irony; was that how close he had been when he had been gazing in fascination at Sunstreaker’s spike?

                “Well, not the node itself,” Wheeljack explained, pushing himself upright and contracting his abdominal cables in order to peer down at his own valve. “The mesh lips surrounding it though, yes.”

                He carefully lifted the decorative barbell away from his node, showing them where the piercing actually existed. “When the piercing is stimulated, it indirectly affects the node as well. It’s not my only piercing, by the way. They were quite the rage during my stay at the Engineering Academy.”

                Sunstreaker’s head snapped up to stare intently into Wheeljack’s optics. “Where else?” he demanded, energy field pulsing hungrily against Wheeljack’s. Apparently the idea of piercings was revving Sunstreaker up. Wheeljack couldn’t blame him; not when he’d felt the same way as soon as he had caught sight of the whorls decorating the other mech’s spike.  

                In answer, Wheeljack let the cover to his spike housing spiral open, giving a sigh of relief as his semi-pressurized spike emerged. At the tip, gleaming in the overhead lights, was another barbell. This one was a little larger than the one in his valve and penetrated the head of his spike horizontally.

                Sunstreaker reached out and lightly touched the piercing. Wheeljack’s spike twitched in response. “Did this hurt?”

                Wheeljack shook his head. Then paused before speaking. “Well… just for a brief moment. It was worth it, though; I’ve been told by multiple partners that it’s a very pleasurable experience.”

                “Damn. You’ve got hidden depths, ‘Jack,” Sideswipe said in awe. “Now I have no idea what I want to do first. Ride your face _or_ your spike.”

                “Let’s stick with the original plan. I wanna watch him overload while I play with this,” Sunstreaker replied before Wheeljack could. The golden frontliner reached out and tugged on the piercing, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through his valve.

                Annnddd… Wheeljack was fine with that plan. Any plan really, as long as the twins were touching him and vice versa.

                “I’m good with that,” Wheeljack said faintly, dropping back down to the berth. He beckoned to Sideswipe, holding out his hands until the red twin grasped them in his own. He let himself be pulled closer, and accepted his help in straddling Wheeljack’s chest.

                “Any last words? Since your mouth will be a little busy, ping me or Sunny if you need a break, ok?” Sideswipe said, shuffling forward on his knees. His valve was swollen and dripping, and annoyingly just out of reach. Wheeljack couldn’t wait to get started; he loved burying his face between a mecha’s trembling legs and licking up into that moist heat.

                Before Wheeljack could answer, Sunstreaker rubbed at the rim of Wheeljack’s valve, inserting a finger immediately once he discovered how much lubricant had gathered there. A second digit followed right after the first, testing the walls of the port. Wheeljack moaned and tilted his pelvis up in entreaty.

                “Wheeljack? Tell me you’ll ping me if something bothers you, all right?” Sideswipe pressed, fingers gently fliting over Wheeljack’s cheek.

                “I will!” Wheeljack gasped, hands reaching up and grasping Sideswipe about the waist to pull him downwards. “Now get going, the both of you!”

                Sideswipe resisted Wheeljack’s tug, although Sunstreaker chuckled and slid in a third finger. Wheeljack was conflicted; he wanted to lick up into Sideswipe’s delectable looking valve, but he also wished he could watch Sunstreaker ease into Wheeljack’s valve.

                The red twin perched on Wheeljack’s chestplates gazed down at him, small smirk forming. “Eager, aren’t you? You want this?” he asked, dipping a hand between his thighs. His fingers emerged a moment later, two of them shining wetly in the overhead lights. He smeared the back of them across Wheeljack’s lips, and he twisted so that he could capture the tips of them and suck away the sweetness of the red twin’s lubricant.

                Sideswipe ex-vented shakily, thrusting his fingers into Wheeljack’s mouth a few more times in mimicry of his brother’s digits. Then he removed them. As soon as he did, Wheeljack spoke.

                “Yes. I want you!” Wheeljack replied impatiently. “Get over here!”

                “Stop teasing him, Sides,” Sunstreaker rumbled.

                Hah! Look who was talking! Wheeljack bounced his pelvis, grinding down on the other twin’s fingers, wordlessly pleading for him to get on with it. He was going to rust of old age before they got things really going.

                “Just making sure,” Sideswipe replied cheekily. Hips giving a little shimmy, he gracefully slid forward and dropped down over Wheeljack’s face. He didn’t sit completely, although Wheeljack would have been fine with that. Instead he had to crane his neck up a fraction to meet Sideswipe’s valve. But he did so eagerly, the hot ozone scent of the frontliner immediately enveloping Wheeljack and making his head spin.

                Wheeljack brushed his lips over the rim of Sideswipe’ valve, nosing around until the pliable little nub of Sideswipe’s anterior node pulsed against Wheeljack’s upper lip. Then he attached himself to it, lips wrapping around it so that his glossa could lash against its surface.

                “Oh, holy frag!” Sideswipe exclaimed, grinding down a little against Wheeljack’s mouth.

                Sunstreaker rumbled something from down between Wheeljack’s legs. It could have been words, it could have been a laugh, Wheeljack didn’t know. All he cared about was the blunt head of a spike nudging up against the entrance to Wheeljack’s valve. His folds parted with ease, hot length sliding home in one push, and finally eradicating the empty ache he’d been experiencing for the past several minutes.

                Sunstreaker gave him a moment to adjust and then withdrew nearly all the way before plunging deep once more. The golden twin remained bottomed out for a moment, their pelvic plating grinding together before he pulled out and began thrusting with a steady rhythm.

                It was _wonderful._ It had been far too long since the last time Wheeljack had interfaced. Even though there were downtime during battles, much of his days were taken up with weapons or defense projects. Then there were the upkeeps on the Ark; the old ship’s systems were constantly failing from one day to another. He had help from the maintenance crew of course, but many of the delicate repairs he had to perform himself. And finally, he helped out quite a bit in MedBay; he wasn’t as good a medic as Ratchet or even Hoist, but he knew enough that he was often pulled in for emergencies or if there were a backup on routine system checks.

                So interfacing had been at the very bottom of his to do list. Plus, there weren’t that many mechs on board whom he was interested in. He and Ratchet had fallen in and out of bed together throughout the years but always as friends and nothing more. And lately, Ratchet had been even busier than Wheeljack.

                Mechs like the twins were so far out of his league that Wheeljack had never even once considered it would be like to ‘face them.

                Ok. Maybe once or twice he’d thought about it, but not seriously. To be honest, he still thought he might be daydreaming, processor loopy because he’d forgotten to refuel again.  

                “Yeah, that’s it,” Sideswipe whispered encouragingly, bringing Wheeljack up out of his thoughts. A hand came to rest atop Wheeljack’s head, Sideswipe’s fingers caressing the sensitive center helm crest. Wheeljack _purred_ , his optics slipping closed to better savor the sensations rising up over him.

                Sideswipe’s valve was wet, lubricant overflowing and trickling down Wheeljack’s chin. There was no way he’d be able to keep up with the flow, not when Sideswipe had been aroused for as long as he had, but Wheeljack tried his best, lapping at Sideswipe’s entrance again and again. The red twin kept twitching, little aborted motions that nudged his nub against Wheeljack’s nasal ridge.

                Impatiently, Wheeljack grasped Sideswipe tighter about the waist and tugged him downwards. He wasn’t going to break, by Primus! If Sideswipe wanted to ride his face, then Wheeljack was in full support of that. Sideswipe produced a surprised yelp when he dropped down that last little bit, but then the sound morphed into a throaty moan as the movement pushed his valve more firmly against Wheeljack’s eager lips.

                “Oh, slag. Slag, slag, slag. That feels so good,” Sideswipe panted, now rocking freely against Wheeljack’s mouth. He hummed in approval, the slick valve folds enfolding his mouth and nasal ridge. Good thing he didn’t have to breathe like a human, or otherwise this wouldn’t work for very long. 

                As his lips returned to lavishing Sideswipe’s node, clever fingers grasped Wheeljack’s valve piercing and began rolling it around. Wheeljack jerked in place, hips dancing as pleasure swirled through his lower abdomen.

                “I think you’d look good with one of these,” Sunstreaker rumbled, sounding far away. He certainly _felt_ close, each smooth pump in and out of Wheeljack’s valve gathering charge and making him tingle down to his pedes.

                “Yeah?” Sideswipe replied shakily. “The one on the… ahh!... node?”

                “The silver would go good with your red,” Sunstreaker said. “Imagine how good you’d feel right now with that little nub of yours pierced?”

                Wheeljack wanted to remind them that actually it was the _hood_ and not the node itself that was pierced, but he got a little distracted when Sunstreaker gently tugged on the barbell in question.

                Unable to say anything, Wheeljack instead gently grabbed Sideswipe’s node between his denta and exerted a downwards pressure on it, mimicking Sunstreaker’s actions.

                Sideswipe shouted wordlessly, his pelvis canting downwards even further. “Oh, Primus! Do that again!” he pleaded, grip on Wheeljack’s center helm crest bordering on painful.

                Wheeljack didn’t mind, however, the pain sweetly complementing the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his belly with every stroke of Sunstreaker’s spike. It felt like every thrust physically _pushed_ charge deep into Wheeljack’s valve, the area around his ceiling node feeling swollen and hot. If this was the goal of the tattooed glyphs, then Wheeljack heartily approved.

                “What? You mean this?” Sunstreaker purred, fingering Wheeljack’s piercing again.

                Immediately cottoning onto the game, Wheeljack tugged on Sideswipe’s node again in response. The red twin shook above him, engine throttling high.

                Sunstreaker chuckled darkly, hands stroking Wheeljack’s outer thighs. His thrusts were beginning to speed up, which suited Wheeljack just fine. “ _Destroy_ him, ‘Jack. Make him scream.”

                One twin’s permission was good enough for him, Wheeljack decided. He left off nibbling Sideswipe’s node in favor of plunging his glossa deep inside the quivering valve itself, letting his nasal ridge slide against the swollen nub. His hands slid down from Sideswipe’s hips to cup his aft, directing Sideswipe’s motions atop his face.

                “Yeah, yeah,” Sideswipe chanted, “Don’t stop, please… nngh!”

                Sideswipe’s pelvis ground down, knees flexing against Wheeljack’s vocal indicators. The burning port spasmed around Wheeljack’s tongue, spiraling down tight and producing a gush of lubricant into his mouth as Sideswipe overloaded hard above him.  

                The red twin cried out, frame stiff for several long moments as spasm after spasm shook him. Then he wobbled on his knees and slumped forward, lower belly pressing against Wheeljack’s forehelm. He propped himself up on his palms, body shaking with the aftershocks of his climax.

                “Holy…” Sideswipe panted, patting the top of Wheeljack’s head. “I think you broke me. I can’t feel my legs.”

                He abruptly slid off to one side, one inner thigh dragging across Wheeljack’s throat with a soft chime. The frontliner collapsed onto his hip, upper body curled close to Wheeljack’s head.

                Freed from the warm confines of the other mech’s thighs, Wheeljack’s head spun at the sudden chill. He blinked rapidly at Sideswipe, a little proud at himself at how the mech continued to tremble. The twin was so very responsive; Wheeljack would love to get him on his back and camp out between his thighs, figuring out what made Sideswipe scream the loudest.

                “My turn,” Sunstreaker purred, tugging on Wheeljack’s piercing again. “Do I have your full attention?”

                Wheeljack craned his neck and looked down the length of his body to see the golden twin staring back at him hungrily. His hips worked steadily between the vee of Wheeljack’s thighs, hand planted on his belly and thumb brushing over Wheeljack’s node.

                “Every bit,” Wheeljack truthfully replied, reaching up a hand to wipe his face of the copious amounts of lubricant Sideswipe had left behind.

                Sunstreaker caught his arm before it could move more than a few inches. “Leave it.”

                “He likes to see our partners marked up,” Sideswipe murmured, squirming around until he was curled up against Wheeljack’s side. He propped himself up on one elbow, hand caressing the top edge of Wheeljack’s windshield. “Will you let me shoot transfluid all over you later?”

                Wheeljack’s valve contacted down tight at the thought, forcing a curse past Sunstreaker’s lips. “Yes,” Wheeljack whined, unbelievable revved up at the thought. “Both of you can.”

                “Well, you’ll get your wish in probably another minute,” Sideswipe commented, miming a kiss in his brother’s direction. His free hand reached down and wrapped around Wheeljack’s spike, index finger fondling the metal stud. “How’s those glyphs of Sunny’s feel? I bet your valve is all warm and tingly, am I right?”       

                Wheeljack planted his feet on either side of Sunstreaker’s knees, giving himself leverage to meet the increasing force of Sunstreaker’s thrusts. At this rate, he had no doubt his frame was going to be decorated with those streaks of red and yellow Sideswipe had mentioned earlier.

                “Good! So good!” Wheeljack whimpered as Sunstreaker’s hands on Wheeljack’s hips tightened. The pleasure kept spiraling higher and higher, and Wheeljack knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Sunstreaker seemed to know it too, and he deliberately locked optics with Wheeljack. He smirked as he gripped Wheeljack’s piercing and rolled it between his fingers before tugging upwards sharply several times in a row.

                “Oh!” Wheeljack exclaimed, back arching as the act sent bursts of pleasure directly into his node. He hadn’t thought it possible, but Sunstreaker’s hips began pistoning faster. “Please!”

                “Come on, ‘Jack,” Sideswipe murmured into his audial. A warm, wet glossa stroked the edges, sending shivers down Wheeljack’s back strut. “I wanna see you overload on my brother’s spike.”

                Sunstreaker tugged on the piercing again and that combined with Sideswipe’s sinfully dark voice pushed Wheeljack over the edge. Shouting wordlessly, he flung out a hand to grab hold of Sideswipe’s arm in a death grip, feet scrambling against the bed. Sunstreaker had to tighten his grip further as Wheeljack shuddered violently in bliss, valve rippling around Sunstreaker’s spike. The normal motions of his calipers in combination with the swirls on Sunstreaker’s throbbing length directed all that crackling charge straight to the back of his valve, centering on his ceiling node.

                As an incredibly powerful overload washed over him, his vocalizer shorted out in a spit of sparks and his vision dimmed at the edges. Nevertheless, he continued to watch Sunstreaker, not willing to miss one moment of the other mech’s own impending completion. .

                The golden twin bit his lower lip, hard enough to cause a single drop of Energon to well up where his denta had punctured the softer dermal plating. As soon as the clasp of Wheeljack’s valve began to loosen, Sunstreaker pulled out, hand dropping to his spike to stroke it furiously.

                “Spill all over him, Sunny,” Sideswipe urged, pelvis rocking against Wheeljack’s side. The red mech’s pressurized length rubbed excitedly against Wheeljack’s hip, hot and insistent. “He’s already dirty, remember?”

                Groaning as if it hurt, Sunstreaker did as his brother instructed, transfluid erupting from the tip of his spike. Long strips of it landed on Wheeljack’s belly and even up to his chest, the hot splatter making his valve clench again. His own length throbbed in sympathy, especially when Sideswipe swirled his fingers in some of his brother’s spill and painted it across Wheeljack’s spike piercing.

                “Nice,” Sideswipe purred, nuzzling Wheeljack’s shoulder. Sunstreaker collapsed back onto the heels of his pedes, ventilating harshly and optics zeroing in on Sideswipe’s hand fondling Wheeljack’s decorative barbell.

                “Yeah,” Sunstreaker agreed. “Stop playing with him,” he added, reaching out a trembling hand to shove his brother’s away. “I want him to spike me next.”

                Sideswipe sinuously wriggled against Wheeljack’s side, hand now dancing across the seams of Wheeljack’s hips. “Oooh, I like the sound of that. Can I take your valve at the same time?” Sideswipe asked, craning his head to look up into Wheeljack’s face.

                Wheeljack merely stared back, blinking rapidly. He could barely move, and they were already thinking about their next overloads?!

                And yet his spike swayed between his legs, eager at the thought of exploring the golden frontliner’s valve and showing them how piercings could enhance interface play.

                Gathering reserves of strength he didn’t know he had, Wheeljack pushed himself to his elbows, already nodding. They expected him to keep up and by Primus… he wasn’t going to disappoint!

               

~ End


End file.
